


hurt like kindness

by darlathecyborgpluviophile



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Magic, Materia, Referenced Underage, friendly reminder that yuffie is sixteen years old, magic headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 22:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlathecyborgpluviophile/pseuds/darlathecyborgpluviophile
Summary: Post-Stolen Materia sidequest, Yuffie has some hangups about what almost happened.





	hurt like kindness

**Author's Note:**

> [Title from this Snow Patrol song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMZcCy3vKpU)
> 
> This fic isn't in any way explicit, but the post-assault angst is quite real. Back away now if that's going to hurt you to read about.

Yuffie can't sleep.

This isn't an unusual occurrence. Of all her friends she is the most likely candidate for staying up late in the night, meticulously stocking their item supply, or messing with her (and others') materia, or simply fidgeting. Yuffie fidgets a lot.

But tonight, Yuffie is unnaturally still. She’s curled up in her bed roll, squished into the wall of the tent, bending the canvas at an angle she’s pretty sure it wasn’t meant to bend at. It’s uncomfortable, but not completely awful. In another circumstance she might loudly complain about her place in the tent. Tonight, she gets it. She doesn’t deserve the room. After all, she’s a –

 _“Skinny young thing,”_ her brain fills in for her, a grainy mimic of Corneo’s voice playing in her head like a recorded message on her phone. _“Delicious, scrumptious, saucy –"_

She groans, and flips over.

It’s not like it matters. It _doesn’t_ matter, in fact. Corneo didn’t even do anything to her, or to Elena; or at least, he wasn’t able to get as far with them as he wanted to. And God, did he want to. He made that obvious with every rake of his eyes over her legs; every experimental squeeze of her thighs, or her breasts; with the steady stream of lewd ramblings rushing out of his mouth like a waterfall. But he didn’t actually _do_ anything. It shouldn’t matter.

Except that Yuffie’s barely sixteen. She’s never had a boyfriend before. Hell, she’s never even been kissed, except for pecks on the cheek from when she was far younger and her father still wanted her around. She still doesn’t have any of that, except that after being in Corneo’s care for the last few days, now she can’t say that she has _no_ experience with being liked. Being lusted after, being chased, being _touched_ –

Yuffie reaches into her pillowcase, patting around before pulling out an MP Absorb Materia; the one from the shop in Wutai, that she plucked out of Cloud’s fingers right before things went very, very wrong. The crystal feels glassy, the color of it a rich, dark blue, like a storm rolling in after night has fallen. There’s a soft, pulsing glow to it that illuminates her sliver of tent space. Right now, the magic within it lies dormant, waiting for a push of life force to activate its power, restoring energy to the user from their enemy. She stares into the mist within the swirling crystal. The hypnotizing patterns almost take her mind off of her baby-faced reflection, staring back at her.

Was it worth it for this, much less a failed thievery?

“You’re not planning to use that on us. Right?”

Yuffie startles, head swiveling comically about, looking for the source of the voice. In the darkness of the tent, she meets two searching green eyes, more piercing that she’s ever seen them before. She blinks away the bright spots in her vision, and a shape forms around the eyes and the voice.

Aerith is sitting up in her bedding just behind her, and Yuffie has to twist around to get a more comfortable view. She doesn’t look angry, or even all that suspicious; she has something more like the mildly disapproving look of a mother catching their child’s hand in a cookie jar.

Attempting a shaky grin, Yuffie stuffs the materia back in her pillowcase, pushing it to the far seam.

“’Course not. I don’t even have my shuriken on me, I couldn’t!”

Aerith quirks her eyebrows, staring her down.

 _“Honest,”_ Yuffie insists, as loudly as she can amidst her sleeping companions. “I wouldn’t even want to use it on you guys anyway.”

Aerith’s line of sight trails from Yuffie’s face, to the faint glow coming from her pillowcase, and back again. It’s innocuous, but it reminds her too much of Corneo’s stupid, horrible, fat face. Her stomach does a flip, her heart rate spikes, and she feels nauseous.

“Whatever,” Yuffie mumbles. “I’m gonna catch some Zs. See ya in the morning.” She lies back down, curling back into her blankets.

“Are you okay?” Aerith asks quietly.

“I’m fine,” Yuffie snaps back.

Aerith hums. “Can I show you something cool?”

She curls tighter, trying to ignore her, before:

“It involves materia,” Aerith sings out, in a tempting sort of voice.

It’s not like Yuffie’s gotten any sleep prior to this. All night, her mind has been drawing circles upon circles, spiraling down into depths not unlike the fall from Da-Chao, where Corneo lies and she might have, too, if she hadn’t pleased him as much as she did.

It doesn’t matter. _She_ doesn’t _matter_. She _shouldn’t_ matter, not after what happened.

Yuffie sits up to look at Aerith again, and true to her word, she’s holding a magic materia in the palm of her hand. Aerith’s expression is softer than before, and there’s something in the way she looks at her that suggests that she knows, she _understands_.

“Do you want to sit with me?” she asks. “You don’t have to, so don’t feel pressured.”

No one’s…actually bothered to ask about touch before. The option lifts a weight off Yuffie’s chest, and she finds herself nodding jerkily.

Aerith is leaning against the far wall of the tent, her blankets pooled around her legs, a pillow in her lap. Her hair is out of its signature braid, running in waves all down her back. Yuffie crawls around Tifa’s bed roll to meet Aerith in hers, and shuffles down to sit pressed against her against her shoulder.

And before she even shows Yuffie whatever she was going to with the materia, Aerith asks, “Can I put my arm around your shoulders?” and Yuffie says, “Yeah.”

The two of them get comfortable, and Yuffie’s head ends up resting on Aerith’s shoulder, surprisingly soft for the bone underneath, and she feels safer with her than she ever has in her life.

“Now watch this,” Aerith whispers, and lifts the materia into her field of vision. The color is a grassy green, and it reminds Yuffie of sun-drenched meadows and little candies that she used to steal from the elders as a small child. It’s not as cloudy inside as the MP Absorb was, but if she looks hard enough she can still see magic flowing in skinny currents all underneath the surface. Aerith closes her eyes next to her and suddenly that magic brightens immensely, its glow pulsing with the sound of her heart.

Then, slowly, it lifts.

The materia hovers just an inch or two off the surface of Aerith’s palm, her skin pale enough to reflect back the magic’s light like water, cupped in her hand. Yuffie’s never seen anything like it, even in all the battles she’s fought side-by-side with her; materia, as far as she knows, is usually something to be called upon, a power left in reserve until pulled through a conduit. Not something that communes with the body like…this.

Aerith opens her eyes, and shifts her hand around to the side, no longer underneath the green. Somehow the rock keeps steady, still hovering in place. She giggles, and turns her head to whisper to Yuffie.

“Cool, right?”

Yuffie nods, completely entranced.

It gets better. The swirls of yellow-green she spotted within the crystal when it was still inactive begin to escape, at first skimming the surface of the materia and then reaching out from it altogether. The tendrils of pure magic, brilliant, shining green, explore Aerith’s waiting wrist curiously before wrapping itself around her. Yuffie’s breath catches in her throat.

“Does it hurt?” she nearly shouts, and Aerith has to gently shush her, still giggling.

“Nope! Just tingles a little.”

“Can I try?!” Yuffie asks, sitting up and letting Aerith’s comforting arm fall back to her side.

“Oh, I wish. I think it’s a Cetra thing,” she says simply, and after all they learned at Cosmo Canyon, even Yuffie can detect the loneliness in her voice.

“It’s freaking beautiful,” Yuffie breathes in absolute awe.

“It is,” Aerith agrees, and the two of them sit there for a few moments more, as these captured tendrils of the Lifestream explore the heiress to their power. But eventually, Aerith can’t keep up with the energy the trick requires from her, and the materia floats back down into her waiting hand.

“Do you know what kind of materia this is?” Aerith asks.

“It’s an effect materia. Right? So it’ll mess up all the bad guys real good!”

Aerith smiles. “Pretty much. It’s the Seal materia, which you can use to cast a potent sleep spell.”

And suddenly, the reason that Yuffie is awake at this hour crashes back over her like cold water. Guilt and shame course into her mind, not unlike the currents of magic just now.

“Oh. Yeah, I knew that,” she mumbles.

There’s a shifting underneath her, Aerith moving to get a closer look at her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she offers, and Yuffie doesn’t – really, really doesn’t.

“I wish it hadn’t happened,” she bursts out with, finally. “It doesn’t even make sense. It’s stupid. _I’m_ stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Yuffie.”

“Then why did he catch me?” she asserts, glaring up at Aerith’s face and desperately ignoring the tears building in the corners of her eyes. “I had all that materia. I just wasn’t strong enough! What is _wrong_ with me?”

“It’s not a matter of strength. And there’s nothing wrong with you.” Aerith looks tired. “I can’t even count the ways that this isn’t your fault.”

“Cloud thinks it is,” Yuffie says, defiantly.

“Cloud thinks that you shouldn’t have tried to trick us, stolen our things, and left us at the mercy of Shin-Ra.” The accusations are unflinching and honest, and Yuffie winces before Aerith continues: “He does _not_ think that you deserve what happened.”

Yuffie goes silent. She’s adamant about not going into detail about her time with Corneo, and there’s not much more to say beyond what she’s already said.

“Yuffie, he had me too, at one point.”

She looks up, and finds that Aerith is looking at the distant flaps of the tent door. “I’ve had other things happen too. So I get it. And I am so sorry.”

“I just want his grossness out of my head.” Yuffie scrubs her eyes, and her fingers come away wet.

“I know,” Aerith whispers. “It takes time. And if you ever need a distraction, or something to drown him out – I want to help. Okay?”

Yuffie nods. “Okay. The magic thing was pretty awesome.”

Aerith beams. “I can do it again, if you want. I think I’ve got enough energy left in me for a quick Sleepel.”

She rubs away the rest of her tears, and nods again. Once she’s back in her own bed roll, a pleasant tingling overtakes her – she smells lavender and chamomile and a hint of lily, Aerith’s own power mingling with that of the materia’s.

Then Yuffie’s asleep, safe and warm, in a place where the events of Wutai can't find her.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter: @darlathecyborg](https://twitter.com/darlathecyborg)


End file.
